CHAPTER 128: CLAIM TO THE SELF

Kaito did not look at her. He could not. His gaze was drawn to the piece of glass in the cup of his hand, the fractured surface seething with that dull, malignant glow.

The breaks wept with darkness, each fracture vibrating with some hidden venom. His own features stared back at him through the deformed glass—except that they weren’t his.

The Reaver’s face protruded out of the darkness, swelling around his features, shaping his jaw, draining his eyes of their golden warmth, leaving dark craters behind. Gradually, it filled the shard to its fullness, leaving behind nothing but itself. And then—it smiled.

The smile was off. Too broad, too perceptive.

[Corruption Sync: 97%]

[Warning: Identity Partition Breach Imminent]

The shard trembled in his grasp.

Nyra’s voice pierced him faintly, as though she was on the other side of a storm. "Kaito... let it fall. Release it."

But his fingers would not. The sides of the shard cut into his palm, slicing a thin line of blood, and in its stead, he felt a spasm of cold delight course up his arm, forking through his chest. The Reaver’s laughter trailed behind, soft, whispery, on the static that hummed at the edge of his mind.

"You never dropped me before," it said, lips moving in perfect synchrony with his own reflection. "Why start now?"

The surface of the shard flexed, and the glass gave, folding into a window.

Kaito looked through it and saw himself—not as he was, but as he had been since the Abyss: surrounded by darkness, knives wet with unpossible hunger, walking across fields of desolation. With each step, the earth beneath him was eaten. With each breath, the air was emptied.

And no hesitation in that version of him. No guilt. Only the icy pleasure of being alive, taken to its limit.

"You think that this ability is a curse," the Reaver said, its voice his and not-his, as deep as the void. "But you’ve already used it. How many did you kill to be here? How many will you kill tomorrow? Don’t fool yourself, Kaito. Don’t lie and tell yourself you’re anything other than me."

Kaito clutched the shard more firmly. His heart missed a beat. A cold droplet of sweat burst on his neck, coursing down behind the collar of his shattered armor.

Nyra cried out again to him, but further away this time, carrying off, as though she was being pulled by some tide he was powerless against.

He tried to answer her. He did. But the Reaver canted, its face pressed up against the glass so tight it seemed like it would bulge through, loose crawling in the air.

"You can’t shut me up. You are me."

[Corruption Sync: 98%]

[Memory Partition Failing...]

[Override in progress]

A wave swept over him—wild, scorching. He turned back, the shard held against his chest. The world about him paled. The earth beneath his feet broke and dissolved into darkness, consumed by nothing. He stood no longer upright within the chamber. He was inside.

The shard had drawn him in.

The world within was one of glass desert and blackness, an ocean of broken mirrors that stretched out to the horizon.

They presented him with himself in every possible fashion: his childhood self, frightened and alone; his time as a player, smiling wanly with Nyra; the kid who had logged into Eclipse Online for solace. But between them came the others—the killer, the Reaver, the pitiless executioner who killed everyone that crossed him.

The two halves looked back through the shattered mirrors, and one slowly blended into the other.

The Reaver crawled out of the nearest shard, dropping behind a sword of black fire. Its smile was calm, nearly gentle. "Look at you," it told Kaito. "Still clinging to the hope that you’re human. That you’re not the thing everyone fears. Tell me, Kaito—when did you ever hesitate?"

Kaito forced his throat to work. His voice came out low, hoarse. "I’m not you."

The Reaver tilted its head, eyes glowing. "Then prove it. Deny what you’ve done."

The broken mirrors flickered. Scenes replayed around him—faces of those he had slain, moments where his blade had carved through enemies and monsters alike. He remembered their screams. He remembered the look in their eyes before the void took them.

His stomach heaved. His gasp hitched.

But the Reaver just spread its arms, as if to welcome him in like one of the family. "See? Every drop of blood. Every choice. That wasn’t me. That was you."

[Warning: Identity Anchor Unstable]

[Core Personality in jeopardy]

"No," Kaito gasped, clutching his chest. His heart beat so hard it hurt. "I didn’t—"

"With pleasure," the Reaver broke in, closer, sword scratching sparks on the glassy surface. "You did. And you’ll do it again. Because when the next wall goes up, when the next enemy comes along, you won’t slip. You’ll kill. Because that’s what you are."

Its smile twisted. "Because you love it."

The words cut deeper than any blade.

He needed to protest. He needed to scream that it was not fair. But deep down inside, the need brewed. How many times had he cut on impulse? How many times had he been consumed by the high—the high of survival, of victory, of proving himself alive?

A shiver went through him. His knees buckled.

"See?" the Reaver whispered, kneeling before him. "You don’t even resist anymore. You’re tired. So tired. Just give in. Let me carry it. Let me be you."

It pressed its blade to his chest. The heat of it seared through his shirt, scorching his skin, and yet his heart beat faster against it—as though yearning for the steel.

[Corruption Sync: 99%]

[Warning: User Core Identity Critical]

Kaito gasped for air, his chest burning with every breath. He could feel himself slipping, his grip on control breaking apart. The shard throbbed like a living heart in his hands, each pulse sending cracks through the mirrors around him.

One after another they splintered and fell away, sharp fragments scattering into the void. If it kept going like this, there would be nothing left of him—or of the world around him.

And then—Nyra’s voice.

Not subdued this time. Not distant. Clear, distinct, piercing through the white noise.

"Kaito. You’re not alone. Don’t you dare give in."

The Reaver slowed, its grin wavering. Its head jerked around, eyes tightening. "She doesn’t belong here."

But Kaito’s head snapped up. His sister’s face glowed faintly in one of the pieces, her eyes burning with resolution, her hand out.

"Don’t you recall?" she said. "The nights before all this? The promises we made? You promised to come back for me. You promised we’d survive. Together. That’s who you are. Not this."

The Reaver snarled, shoving its blade harder against his chest. "She’s a memory. A weight. A weakness. Without her, you’d be free."

Kaito’s hands trembled. He could feel the fire scorching him, could feel the pull of the void dragging him down. And yet—her voice steadied him.

He remembered. Not the kills. Not the blood. But the laughter. The warmth. The reason he had kept moving forward at all.

He held the blade in both hands, ignoring that it burned his skin, and shoved it back. "You’re wrong."

The Reaver’s eyes widened.

"I don’t cut because I love it," Kaito said, voice rough, rising. "I cut because I have to. Because if I don’t, everything ends. You’re not strength. You’re just the price. But you don’t own me."

The ground shook. The mirrors rattled, light spilling in through the cracks.

[System Override Detected]

[Identity Anchor Reinforcing...]

[Corruption Sync Reversal Engaged]

The Reaver screamed, hashing out, its form unraveling into smoke and fire. "You can’t hurt me. I am you!"

Kaito rose, blood seeping from his palms, his gaze burning with resolve. "No. You’re a part of me. But you’re not me. Not anymore."

He clasped the shard. And with one last exertion of will, he rubbed it into his hand.

The glass shattering, exploded in light. The Reaver screamed as its body splintered, collapsing in sparks. Shadows were rent, were sundered, pulled into the shattering void.

[Corruption Sync: 47%... 32%... 11%]

[User Core Identity Stabilized]

[Anchor Secured]

Kaito was gasping as he slammed back into his body. His knees thudded onto the ground with a solidity, his chest heaving. The shard exploded in his palm, shattering into dust that dissolved before it reached the floor. His hand was torn, bleeding freely, but he barely registered.

Nyra was kneeling beside him, supporting his shoulder, eyes wide. "Kaito! Hey—look at me. Are you still—?"

He kept her gaze. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, his face was only his.

"I’m here," he growled, voice rough.

Nyra sagged shoulders, relief washing over her. She held him in a tight hug, not bothering with the blood and sweat. "Don’t you ever do that again," she croaked.

Kaito shut his eyes, his brow on her shoulder. He was tired. Broken. But the weight in his chest had shifted. The Reaver remained—lurking, waiting—but no longer at the helm.

He had reclaimed himself.

And that was okay for now.